Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Chapter 37

While he got the little engine started, she grabbed her bow, quiver, and pack, then jumped into the boat.

“You know how to drive this?” he asked, brows drawn with worry.

“I live in bayou country, werewolf.”

“You stay in the boat, doona make land.” His eyes were growing bluer. “Lousha, go. Now.”

“Be careful,” she whispered, leaping up and daring a kiss good-bye before she put the boat in gear. The engine sputtered, then dug in.

Glancing over her shoulder, she peered back at MacRieve—who was clenching the railing, looking as though it took everything in him not to follow her. Just before she turned a bend, driving out of his sight, she saw him crush the railing with his grip.

How far could she possibly get before he succumbed to the moon’s pull?

With each mile gained, the renewed downpour stymied her retreat, filling the boat with more rainwater. She bailed as she steered, blinking against the stinging drops as she maneuvered around debris in her way.

An hour passed like this, then two… And all the while, she began encountering more and more vegetation. The Victoria water lilies were everywhere, their pads bouncing off the bow of the boat, their lengthy stems trailing behind them. They usually lined the banks. So what were they doing out this far in the middle of the river?

She tried to steer around them but there were so many. Each time she ran over one, she held her breath as the engine sputtered. If enough stems tangled in the propeller, the motor could overheat—

With a series of smoking coughs, the engine quit.

She hauled it up, frantically tearing the knotted clumps from the propeller, then lowered it back into the water. Again and again, she yanked on the pull-start.

Nothing.

After several more futile tries, Lucia dropped down into the seat, releasing a stunned breath. Helpless to do anything but drift with the current, she raised her face to the sky. I’m doomed.

She knew MacRieve would find her. That’s what his kind did. He would have to cross the river, then make up all the distance she’d gained by boat, but she had no doubt he could do it.

Part of her thought, If he does this, then it will be over. The responsibility, the pressure, the fear of pain from a missed shot—all finished.

The last tie to Skathi.

This chore of killing Cruach would fall to another, a stronger immortal. One who wasn’t as tired as Lucia. Part of her wanted that so badly—

Something bumped the skiff. Then again. Gazing down with dread, she saw more of the caimans. They weren’t as giant as those from before, but they streamed out of the jungle, following a swath cut through the riverside lily pads. Probably lured by the siren call of that bait trap.

All Schecter’s fault. She could see where the larger creatures had torn out of some concealed tributary, ripping that new pathway through the vegetation, slashing free all the lilies that had eventually fouled Lucia’s motor.

Congratulations, Schecter, you’re a freaking genius. Can’t hold your bladder worth a damn, but—

Then she frowned. The exodus of caimans came out of seemingly nowhere.

Her eyes widened. The swath through green led to… nothing. She couldn’t see a tributary.

“Oh, Freya!” It was Rio Labyrinto!

But she was drifting past it! With a swallow, she peered at the water again. She was going to have to put her arm in and paddle.

She knew what would happen if a caiman got her. The same as had to Marcos Damiãno, who’d been eaten whole by one. She’d read about that species—the caimans had some of the strongest stomach acid of any creature on earth. Would it be enough to kill an immortal like Damiãno?

If the shifter woke trapped in the belly of some primordial monster, would he pray for death? Immortality could be a curse, if one wanted—or needed—to die.

Yes, Lucia knew what she risked. But I’m so close! If I can just reach the river. Before she’d been despairing, ready to give up. Now she wanted to fight. Damn it, she would win. She would kill Cruach. Once and for all.

I’m here, aren’t I? She’d found Rio Labyrinto, which meant El Dorado had to be close. I can do this.

Skathi had said, You’ll be my instrument.

Lucia was ready to be. My responsibility, my kill. Now I need my weapon. With that thought in mind, she gritted her teeth and dipped her arm in, paddling for a patch of shore just downriver from the portal entrance.

Once she was about five feet from land, she leapt into thigh-high water, grabbing the front rope. Trudging her way to the shore, she dragged the boat behind her, tying it to a limb.

After gearing up with her backpack and bow, strapping both on, she started into the jungle, following Rio Labyrinto. Yet soon she discovered it was aptly named—there wasn’t a winding river but a maze of streams, intersecting and diverging.

Slogging through waist-high water. Onto solid ground. Vaulting fallen trees. Back in the water….

Her ears twitched. Things were moving all around her, creeping in the water. Were they the matora, giant anacondas? “Even an immortal could no’ fight one off if it wrapped around the arms,” MacRieve had told her.

And she’d read that once one coiled around its prey, the snake would constrict with each of the victim’s exhalations, until the lungs were flattened.

Ignore them. Nothing was worse than Cruach, and damn it, a weapon to destroy him was within her reach! So close…

Then she froze when she heard a more chilling sound not far in the distance—an agonized roar. MacRieve’s here. Already tracking her. She took off at a sprint. The rain had lightened to the merest drizzle. The better to scent me.

I am going to have to shoot him. Yes, to take an arrow from the quiver he’d gifted her with, then shoot him between the eyes. Earlier she hadn’t been able to even consider it—yet that was before she’d gotten this close to her salvation… to the world’s salvation!

Shooting MacRieve would buy her enough time until sunrise, possibly enough time to find the dieumort.

But then she’d be leaving him defenseless here. Just as the creatures of this place had left, they would return. Anything could attack him.

Despite her speed, MacRieve was gaining. She heard him crashing through the jungle, raking his claws on trees, and ran as if for her life.

Lucia was running for her life, for her future! You can always appease Cruach. The hell she would!

Faster, faster… As she scaled a rise, the brush thinned somewhat, allowing her to increase her already manic pace. When she heard him roar again, she dared a glance over her shoulder; her front foot landed on… air.

She pitched forward into nothing, her body plummeting to the ground.